


Flour and Sugar

by bry0psida



Series: Harringrove Advent [20]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Baking, Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21871597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bry0psida/pseuds/bry0psida
Summary: Steve likes a lot of things. Billy likes that about him.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove
Series: Harringrove Advent [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558885
Comments: 4
Kudos: 119





	Flour and Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “Flour and sugar is a good look for you.” Couldn't find the prompt source.

Billy never knows quite what to expect when he gets home. Steve’s a series of contradictions. He’s the most reliable and predictable person in Billy’s life, yet Steve never ceases to surprise him.

Steve’s got a lot of hobbies. Finds so many things interesting he can’t pick just one. Jack of all trades, master of none. It changes every few weeks or so without warning. When they first met Steve was all about pottery, was sinking money he really didn’t have as a college student into local classes. He didn’t even finish the course.

When they became friends it was scrapbooking. Billy made fun of him for it at the time even though he thought it was cute as fuck when Steve insisted on taking polaroids of them whenever they were together, ‘ _for the scrapbook_!’. That one makes a reappearance every few months or so.

It changed to parkour a little after they started dating. That was fucking hilarious. Steve was god awful at it, had no coordination whatsoever. He got arrested for it once, decided to quit once he broke his ankle. Steve still insists he could’ve been an internet sensation ‘ _if it weren’t for this bum ankle_.’ Billy humors him.

When they first moved in together it changed to songwriting. Steve’s got a sweet voice, he was real good at guitar too, shame he quit. Billy misses sitting outside the front door of their apartment and just listening to Steve. He always stopped when Billy came home, stopped once he got wise of Billy’s strategy.

Billy’s taken to marking the changes in interest on the calendar, has worked out that there’s sort of a pattern to it. Steve seems to have a natural shift in attention every 3-5 weeks, but unexpected events like him losing his job or his parents cutting him off can result in a sudden change of fixation, too. Those interests are short lived but intense, Steve throws himself into it to exhaustion, till he hates whatever he started. Steve got a pretty terrible email from his dad last night, kept telling Billy he was _fine, stop pestering me about it_ , but Billy knows him. Knows he’s coming home to some unexpected and likely eccentric mess.

He’s been running through some of the worse scenarios in his head during the drive home. Maybe he’ll slip back into his preppy 80’s phase, maybe he’ll try something stupider than parkour, maybe he’ll start doing those challenge videos on youtube he watches way too much of. He’s expecting a lot of things. What he doesn’t expect however, is bread.

Billy knows it’s Steve the second he walks into the building. Lobby stinks like a bakery instead of too much Febreze.

The stairwell smells like bread, the elevator smells like bread, the hall smells like bread. It’s a good smell. Billy knows he’s gonna be sick of it in a week. Knows Steve will be too.

Steve’s singing, something by The Smiths. Billy unlocks the door as quietly as possible, creeps into the apartment. He rounds the corner on Steve serenading his dough between smacking and kneading it. His hair’s a mess, dusted in white. Billy can see it on Steve’s face from here, on his cheek, the tip of his nose.

There’s near mountains of baked goods behind him. Bowls of cookies, a tray of muffins, what Billy thinks is a sponge cake, brownies, gingerbread men. The ovens on, that’s probably the bread he smelt downstairs. Must’ve been at it since Billy left this morning, must’ve pestered their neighbour to use their oven. _Oh, Steve_.

Billy clears his throat, Steve near jumps out of his skin anyway, holds up the dough as a weapon, laughs at himself when he realises what he’s doing. Billy chuckles with him, tosses his keys in the little dish by the door.

“Honey, I’m home.” Billy says.

“Honey, I started a bakery.” Steve replies.

Billy leans his elbows on the kitchen counter, looks at Steve. He’s flushed, whether from embarrassment or exertion Billy isn’t sure. There’s more flour on his face than Billy thought, it’s lovely in contrast to his blush. Billy’d think it’s cute if he didn’t know how dangerously close Steve probably is to losing it. “Busy day?”

Steve punches the dough. “Something like that.”

“Are we gonna talk about it?”

“My dad, or the baking?”

“Either. Both.”

“Not today,”

“Ok,” Billy pushes off his elbows, rounds the island, wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and kisses his clean cheek. “Flour and sugar is a good look for you.”

Steve melts a little at the touch, Billy feels the tension dissipate as Steve leans against him. “How do you feel about bread and brownies for dinner?”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something that vaguely references the delightful new(ish) trend of people getting deeply into making bread when they're depressed. It was originally just gonna be a ton of bread but that's a little unrealistic given cooking times so Steve just goes ham with an old recipe book he finds buried in the back of a cabinet instead.
> 
> [Tumblr](https://bry0psidawrites.tumblr.com) [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bryopsida)


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